


two daggers, a shield and a lance

by noctyx (nicrt)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Multi, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-10-28 09:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10828041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicrt/pseuds/noctyx
Summary: three different lives. three different weapons. three different persons.





	1. Retainers

The tragedy of being acquainted with the prince of a kingdom, as a retainer, was that you’d have to be acquainted with the prince’s inner circle. That is to say, one has to remember who is an ally and not a foe, lest the two be confused and an accident occurred. Hard and cumbersome work, given the fact that their most important charge had to be the prince alone. But for a prince - heir to a prosperous kingdom that is public enemy number one to an imperial war nation - Noctis kept only a small circle trusted people.

And said trusted people happened to be the prince’s retainers themselves.

Ignis Scientia was not exactly required to guard the prince; he was an advisor, groomed to be the prince’s right hand, an aide in diplomatic and ruling matters. A glorified secretary, some would cry out. But whilst brains could get you so far, there was only so much strategizing could do in a fight, if you could fight at all. So, he’s trained himself - with the help of the Crownsguard - in combat; methods to protect the prince and as well as himself. One would say that Ignis is thoroughly dedicated to the prince, a loyalty uncalled for somebody he’s tasked to aid.

Gladiolus Amicitia differed in this sense; he was born into the role of a shield, the first line of defense for the heir. Whether he liked it or not, he was to take a bullet for the prince, whenever and however. This, he knows since he was a child; this, he only understands when he hits his teens. An unfair fate in life, he once thought, to be nothing but a glorified security guard. But he had taken to his duty with pride and gusto; his family had a legacy as legendary as the royals, the prestige was enough to warrant his entire focus and commitment.

One did not become friends with the prince like the other. For Gladiolus, it was a sudden, begrudging respect for his charge’s good nature, because he grew up watching over the prince from afar. For Ignis, it was memorising the nuances and habits of his prince that slowly turned into care over the years of knowing him. The acknowledgement they each concluded to - that they considered themselves friends with the prince, not mere protectors - was only reached upon the day they heard that Noctis would not wake up from his sleep.


	2. Friends

Ignis sighed as he exited the prince's personal chambers, once more put off by the young boy's quiet demeanour. He leaned back onto the door once it clicked close, resting on it heavily. He closed his eyes, just for the moment, with lethargy finally setting in. Though the round-the-clock care he gave to the recovering Noctis was tiring, it was more disheartening to see the once lively boy so sullen now.

"Yo," was the quiet greeting from the side.

Ignis opened his eyes to see Gladiolus, the older teen belonging to the Amicitia family. Unlike Ignis' own family, the Amicitia were more revered amongst the nobles. They weren't mere guards in service to the crown; they were a powerful clan of warriors and protectors. This son of theirs was the one often training Noctis in the art of self-defence.

"Amicitia," was Ignis' curt reply.

If it was unfriendly, he would apologise. There's only so much care he could give to a stranger when he was worrying so much over Noctis. And it - his emotional fatigue - showed, it would seem. Gladiolus had an eyebrow arched, skeptical.

"Apologies," Ignis straightened himself, letting out a sigh. "It has been a very long week."

A week since the prince was brought back home one night, covered in bruises and blood. Most of the citadel staff, both on and off duty, had stayed awake waiting for some news or appearance for their king and prince. Ignis remembered that it was nearing dawn at the time when the sound of the king's retinue was heard. No one rushed or scrambled out; merely waited with bated breath over the fates of the royals. When the king appeared, the prince was being cradled close to his chest, in a fevered sleep that roused the most pitiful noises out of him. It was nothing but a flurry of fretting afterward and then that settled into a slow, agonising week of more waiting.

"Yeah, I heard." Gladiolus replied, looking down. "Brat's been recovering though, right?"

Ignis hesitated in his answer.

"Mostly," he finally said.

"Huh..." Gladiolus glanced at the door behind Ignis. "Mostly."

They stood by the door in silence, nothing but a mutual mourning of sorts being shared between them. The news was common amongst the citadel members, that Noctis was awake from his coma finally. But the child they knew him to be, playful and energetic, was made tranquil after the accident apparently.

"He...cannot walk. Not yet. As the doctors have explained." Ignis shuffled the papers he held in hand, skimming over the few notes he received. "Trauma from the accident would take quite a bit of time to heal. Physically, at least."

A hand reached out towards him and rested on his wrist. He was shaking, Ignis realised.

"C'mon." Gladiolus, jerked his head to the side, an indication that Ignis should follow. "I know a place with really nice skewers. I don't think it'll do any of us good standing around here."

For once, Ignis was glad to let go of his persona as the prince' aide. He followed the older teen and silently prayed that somewhen, there'd be a happiness for them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commentary: tbh i have no idea where this is going


	3. I Hate Puns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Short Interlude

As friends of Noctis, it only made sense to become friends themselves. Duty did not mean they shouldn't enjoy being in the company of each other. And while making a new friend could often be a hassle, especially in their circumstance, there was an underlying joy in being able to mock one another without repercussion and in a mutual understanding of their positions each.

But most important of all: their shared love for puns.

* * *

"We are not starting another pun war."

"Why not? It's a great idea."

"It's a terrible idea and it got us into trouble with your _father_ of all people."

"…yeah, you're right. It's apparently… _pun_ -ishable."

"…I hate you."

"Nah, you love me, I'm pun-ny."

"How pun-tastic…"

**Author's Note:**

> Commentary: Might as well post this really, been sitting in my drafts for too long.


End file.
